tanzanite
My eyes were never sapphire,
they were more a tanzanite,
apprehensive mirrors to his
narcissistic stone.
But he remembered Maxfield Parrish.

He found me on the waterfront
and sized me up,
I fit the frame.

He was never really looking for a she-god
or a villain or even a hero
he was looking for his niche
bartering for his own bardo
a knot of space between the gap in
something and nothing and
anything but what he held in
his hands, gritting between his knuckles
like oil-spilled sand.
My eyes were never sapphire.


Mia Moore